


Off Limits

by KyloTrashForever



Series: Oneshots [24]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Back and Forth Time Jumps, Blow Jobs, Closet Sex, Deep throat, F/M, Hot Tub, I’m Working My Cannes Photo Horniness Out Of My System, POV Ben Solo, Playboy Ben Solo, Porn With Plot, Weddings, but very little plot, opens with porn, until now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-05-24
Packaged: 2020-03-07 02:35:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18863986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KyloTrashForever/pseuds/KyloTrashForever
Summary: “I bet you told yourself this was a one-time thing. That you’d justget this out of your system.”“Ben,” she whines. “Fuck, Ben, just—”“You’re wrong.” He feels her legs shake, and he has to steady her with his free hand. “Once won’t be enough. Not for you, and certainly not for me.”He has to close his eyes against the sound that tears out of her because heknowshe’s right. Once won’t be enough.Not even close.In which Ben is sworn offthatbridesmaid, but it only makes him want her more.





	1. Casual Sequence

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JenfysNest](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JenfysNest/gifts).



> Here’s me trying to work out the bullshit that Adam fucking brought to the table with those ridiculous ass Cannes photos that damn near ruined my life. He knows what he’s doing. He has to. 
> 
> To Jen, who is a perfectly wonderful enabler and deserves all the porn in the world. 🥰

* * *

Her little fingers work at the bow tie at his neck— jerking it roughly until it falls loose and tossing it aside.

Ben tenses when she moves on to the buttons at his dress shirt— wishing he could see her work in the darkness of the closet she’d dragged him into. “What happened to _never in a million years_?”

She doesn’t answer him at first— always so _demure,_ Rey. Then a huff of air escapes her as she mutters, “Technically this isn’t your room.”

He’s having none of it.

“Everyone’s just outside, sweetheart,” he murmurs.

“Don’t call me that,” she snaps.

He grins in the darkness— feeling her tug the tails of his dress shirt from his slacks to slide beneath the white t-shirt he wears underneath. He hears the fragile intake of air as her fingers graze along the muscle of his abdomen— and this isn’t how he wanted this but _fuck_ if he’s not going to take every bit of it.

Her fingers find his waistband and she’s thumbing at the button there to dip inside and then her hand is at his cock and he all but _loses it._

His hands are in her hair and her mouth is moving against his and it’s _messy_ and _bruising_ and it’s _teeth_ and _tongue._ It’s anything but gentle— it’s nothing like he’d thought she’d be.

It’s _better_.

* * *

“Don’t even think about it.”

Ben turns to find Poe eyeing him with a disapproving look— his arms crossed as Ben tries to pass for innocent. “What?”

“Don’t even. You’re staring at Rey.”

Ben casts another glance to woman at the check-in counter— trying and failing to keep his gaze off the long expanse of her legs wrapped in too-tight leggings.

“Is that her name?”

Poe blows out a breath. “Ben. I’m serious. No.”

“Ouch, I’m wounded here.”

“I know you,” Poe grumbles, “and Rey isn’t going to be another notch in your bedpost.”

“Hey,” Ben huffs. “I resent that.”

“Oh yeah? Well I resent the fact that I can’t ever step foot in my favorite bar again because _someone_ just couldn’t leave the bartender alone.”

“I didn’t give her anything she didn’t ask for.”

“Except a call the next day.”

Ben rolls his eyes. “She didn’t want a call. She just thinks she did.”

“Whatever, leave Rey alone. That’s Finn’s little sister.” Ben gives Poe a strange look, cocking an eyebrow as Poe waves him off. “Practically. You know what I mean. They grew up in the same foster home.”

“I can’t say hi? Isn’t she a bridesmaid? I can’t just ignore her all weekend.”

“ _Hi_ is the limit I’m placing on your social interactions with Rey for the next forty-eight hours. If you piss her off Finn will force me to disown you, and for whatever reason I like keeping you around.”

“Aw, babe,” Ben laughs. “It’s not too late to marry me instead.”

Poe rolls his eyes. “Fuck off.” He narrows them then, pointing a finger before turns to leave. “But _not_ with Rey.”

Ben is still grinning as Poe disappears towards the elevators, and for a moment he considers heeding Poe’s warning— even if _don’t even think about it_ prickles his insides like a challenge. Then there’s a scattering of one thing or another as her bag falls from her hands to tumble to the tile— and Ben takes it as a divine intervention.

He quickly crosses the space between them— grabbing for her toppled luggage as he begins to help shove her things back inside— and the grateful smile she gives him leaves him a bit dumbstruck for a moment. If he’d thought she was pretty from across the room— up close she is _heartbreaking._ Her eyes— Ben struggles to even think of an accurate description. Something like sunlight on seawater.

He immediately knows he’s in trouble.

“Hey,” he grins back. “I’m Ben.”

* * *

He’s probably ruining this dress.

It’s certainly not made for the way his finger tugs at the neckline— forcing it low enough that it hoists up her tits like a fucking offering and _fuck_ — he wishes there were more light in here.

“Do you like that?”

“ _Shut up_ ,” she hisses— but there is significantly less bite to it now.

He runs his tongue over her nipple in the same manner as before— pulling that same sharp gasp from her as her fingers tangle in his hair. “ _Sounds_ like you like it.”

“Don’t you ever— _fuck.”_

There is nothing now but the swirling of his tongue and the obscene sounds of the way he sucks her nipple into his mouth. He’s thought about what they’d look like— what she’d _taste_ like— he’s happy to have an answer to at least one of these things.

She’s pressed against the back wall of the enclosed space they’re tucked away in— and he lets his hands smooth down the silky material that has been fucking _teasing_ him all night— clinging to her every curve like _paint_ to leave little to the imagination.

He enjoys the way her legs shake as his hands slide under the hem— his thumbs brushing a hot line along her skin as they find their way between her thighs to push them apart further. He releases her nipple with a soft _pop—_ flicking it with his tongue for good measure before pushing the gathered skirt of her dress into her hands.

“Hold this,” he demands.

“Why?”

 _Fuck_ her voice is nearly hoarse with the way she’s turned on and he feels his already throbbing cock give a heavy twitch, but _not yet._

Even as she questions, she obeys— gripping the material in her hands to leave her nearly naked from the waist down. He lets his hand wrap around her nape— pulling her in to let his tongue swirl over hers and preening inside over the way she leans into it eagerly.

“Because,” he murmurs, “you’ve been complaining about my mouth for two fucking days— but all I’ve wanted to do is get it on your cunt.”

He has to steady her at the hip with the way her knees nearly buckle— a soft whimper escaping her and he’s already covering her mouth with his to swallow it whole.

“Spread your legs,” he urges, “and don’t let go.”

He can’t see her nod— but when he sinks to the floor and grips the scrap of lace he can feel covering her cunt— the strangled sound that escapes her is all the answer he needs.

* * *

“How’s your ass?”

She cracks open one eye— peering out at him over the churning bubbles of the hot tub. “It’s okay now, I think.”

 _It’s a lot more than okay,_ he thinks.

He laughs at her grimace and her obvious embarrassment then. “You’re not the first one to fall on your ass on your first day skiing.”

“I knew I shouldn’t have let you convince me to leave the beginner’s slope.”

“High risk— higher reward,” he shrugs.

She rolls her eyes. “Or in this case higher bruises.”

“Maybe tomorrow we do something else,” he laughs.

“Good call.” She glances out at the all-weather clock hanging on the deck wall then, frowning. “Wow, it’s so late.”

He cocks an eyebrow. “Past your bedtime?”

“You know we have to be at breakfast at seven tomorrow morning, right?”

Ben groans. “Whose idea was that?”

“Poe’s?” She frowns. “Or maybe Finn’s. I’m not sure. Oh, don’t make that face,” she chides at his grumbling expression. “It’s their day.”

“Remind me to never get married,” he sighs, leaning his head back against the rim of the hot tub.

“You don’t want to get married?”

When he looks back up he finds her staring at him curiously, as if he’s said something crazy. He chuckles at her expression. “Would have to find someone who can stand being around me that long, anyway.” She’s still looking at him as if he’s said something odd, and he turns his head in question. “I take it you dream of white dresses and flowers and all that?”

“Well, yeah,” she tells him honestly. “Some day.”

He gives a lingering pass of his eyes over her bare shoulders and the length of her neck. “You’d look good in the dress at least, sweetheart.”

Her mouth parts, her eyes widening just a little and he can see it there— that spark of attraction she’s been trying to hide all day. He hadn’t meant to call her that— doesn’t even really know where it _came_ from— but her reaction makes the slip up worth it.

She clears her throat in yet another attempt. “I should— get to bed.”

She moves to stand then— and Ben doesn’t hide the way his eyes are glued to her suit that hugs her hips and her tits or the way her thighs and her stomach are _so wet_ and that _look_ is back in her eyes.

He holds out his hand, and she stares at it for a moment— wondering probably if he is asking for her help in getting up. Or maybe she isn’t.

Because she takes it, and he doesn’t move to stand. He pulls her down to him— and she just _goes_ easily— without protest. Her thighs settle over his and she’s staring at his mouth and he leans in and she doesn’t even _try_ to stop the way his lips press against hers.

She tastes like warmth and just a little salt from the tub and she _arches_ into him when his hand settles at her lower back and it’s _so good._ All of it.

Ben’s never been one for extensive kissing— always seen it as a means to an end, but _this—_ he might could do this for _hours_ if she’d let him.

But then her hips roll into his and there is hardly anything between them and he _knows_ she can feel how hard he is for her and it’s like a bucket of ice water— for the way it chills her.

Everything suddenly stops.

She pushes away— eyes wild and dark, and her breath so heavy as her chest heaves and then she’s standing to put space between them as she scrambles from the hot tub.

“Hey, don’t—”

“We should go to bed.” She blushes at the implication then, shaking her head. “Separately,” she corrects. “We should go to bed. In our own rooms. It’s late.”

His body screams at him to drag her back here— to finish what they started— but her face is so _resolute_ now and he’s nodding dumbly and he _thinks_ he manages a goodnight but she’s gone so quickly he can’t be sure if she even hears it.

He’s left frustrated and _so fucking hard_ and struck with an urge to tear the resort apart to get her back here.

_Fuck._

He’s in trouble. 

* * *

She’s like _honey_.

He’s distracted by it— trying to ease his tongue _inside of_ her to taste more even as she wriggles and moans and begs for more.

If his mouth wasn’t full of her— he might even tease her for how badly she’s begging.

He tugs at her thigh to pull it over his shoulder, and the gasp that escapes her when he flattens his tongue up her slit is _filthy_ in the way it makes him harder— _needier,_ even.  Her fingers still grip the bit of dress he’d given her, but he feels the way her hands twist and tremble as if she wants to let go.

Maybe she wants to tangle them in his hair. The thought almost makes him wish she would.

He finds the swollen button of her clit— hot and near-pulsing against his tongue— and gives it a series of light flicks that make her tremble all over.

“I wish I could see,” Ben rasps. “See the way you’re _dripping_ for me.” He brings two fingers to press at the tight little hole that clenches just at the _tips_ of them— feeling the slick there of both his tongue and just _her._ “I bet you told yourself this was a one-time thing.” He pushes his fingers inside— having to bite back a groan of his own as her tight heat grips and _clings_ to him and all he can think about is _fuck, she’ll feel so good on my cock._ He pushes deeper before leaning to press an open-mouthed kiss at her clit— sucking it into his mouth to pull at it before releasing it again. “That you’d just _get this out of your system.”_

“ _Ben,”_ she whines. “ _Fuck,_ Ben, just—”

“You’re wrong,” he growls, grinding his fingers into her until her legs shake and he has to steady her with his free hand. “Once won’t be enough. Not for you, and certainly not for me.”

When his lips wrap around her clit and he hollows his cheeks to prove his point— he has to close his eyes  against the sound that tears out of her because he _knows_ he’s right. Once won’t be enough.

Not even close.

* * *

In his twenty-eight years Ben has never had a drink thrown in his face, and experiencing it now— he thinks it is one occurrence he could have lived without.

“Shit,” he mutters as Poe approaches heatedly.

“ _What did you do?”_

Ben slings his arms in an attempt to fling away some of the excess liquid. “What makes you assume I did something?”

Poe narrows his eyes. “The mimosa you’re wearing is a good indication.”

“Way to be sympathetic,” Ben grumbles, wiping orange juice from his eyes. “Have you ever had a mimosa flung at you? Shit stings.”

“Ben. Tell me why Rey just threw her mimosa at you when I specifically told you to limit your interactions to _hi.”_

“To be fair,” Ben starts, “I _did_ tell her hi.”

Poe’s eyes are almost shut now with the way they’re narrowed.

Ben sighs. “Okay, but then maybe I invited her skiing.”

“ _Ben,”_ Poe groans.

“She said she didn’t know how! I was being friendly.”

“Friendly my ass,” Poe grumbles. “So how did this lead to her tossing her drink on you and storming out of breakfast today?”

“Well I might have suggested the hot tub after—” Noticing Poe’s scowl he adds, “For soreness! She really went hard out there.”

“Uh huh. None of this explains the orange juice in your hair.”

“Well… it was going great. We were talking and she laughed at my jokes and _fucking hell_ that bikini she was wearing—” Poe is still scowling, and Ben changes the subject. “Anyway… then we said goodnight.”

“You did?”

His mind stumbles over the kiss and the _grinding_ because he’s sure Poe doesn’t want to hear that. “We did.”

“That’s…” Poe looks a little incredulous. “Unlike you.”

Ben shrugs. “We were both tired.”

Poe chews on his lip. “So… still confused about the drink.”

“Well,” Ben sighs. “I asked her to dinner tonight just now.”

“Still strangely innocent for you.”

“Well… I may have heavily implied what I wanted to do to her _after_ dinner.”

“...and there it is.”

“What?”

“Ben.” Poe pinches the bridge of his nose. “Rey isn’t some barfly. She’s a senior at MIT for Christ’s sake. You can’t treat her like a paid service.”

“First of all I have never paid for sex,” Ben frowns. “I resent that.”

“Whatever, you know what I mean.”

Ben huffs. “Why is it so bad to let her know that I want her? Trust me— she wants me too.”

“I bet you didn’t even get her phone number.”

“Well, no,” Ben admits. “But I didn’t have my phone in the hot tub and it didn’t cross my mind—”

“Exactly. Rey isn’t like your usual conquests. You can’t just fuck her and never call her again.”

“She wouldn’t _want_ me to call if she really knew me,” Ben mutters.

Poe sighs. “Listen, guy. I know you still beat yourself up about your dad—”

“Don’t,” Ben warns.

“I’m just _saying_ — neither of you were speaking and it’s not your fault that—”

“Poe.”

Poe sighs. “My point is, you’re not this monster you make yourself out to be. There are plenty of women who would _love_ more from you than a quick fuck. Rey might have been one of them.” He eyes the sticky juice that drips from Ben’s hair. “Well, before this at least. Now just trust me, go shower off, and leave well enough alone. For all our sakes.”

Poe leaves him then— dripping with his own misfortune as Ben mulls over what he’s said. It isn’t that he hadn’t _planned_ to call Rey— well. Who is he kidding? It might never have crossed his mind. So used to pushing everyone away before he has the chance to fuck things up.

Still— when he thinks about Rey’s laugh and her _mouth_ or how cute she was when she fell ass-first into the slopes or _definitely_ the way she looked in that motherfucking bikini…

Maybe he would have.

* * *

The way she comes against his tongue is fucking _transcendent._ He enjoys it so much that he pulls another one from her. He feels her tremble in his mouth until her hands finally release the fabric of her dress and it covers his eyes but her fingers are in his hair now and she’s _tugging_ so hard that it hurts but it feels so _good_ too.

He can feel her on his lips and his nose and his chin and he lets his tongue swipe around his mouth in an attempt to clear as much of it away as he’s able. Just to prolong the taste of her.

His chest heaves with effort as she pulls him to his feet— crushing his mouth to hers as her taste surely floods her tongue. Her leg wraps around his hip as his cock slots against her center— so impossibly hard against his briefs and the way she _moans_ as he rubs against her— it’s driving him borderline insane.

Her hands push at his dress pants— pushing them over his hips before tugging at his briefs and then it’s warm fingers on hard cock and she gives him a light stroke that has his face buried in her hair. He rolls his hips into her hand— the heat of her palm as she grips his cock _maddening,_ and her thumb presses to smear the beaded liquid at the head and he is _lost_ to this.

“Turn around,” he grates. “Against the wall.”

She doesn’t even hesitate— all her pretense and her pretending _shattered_ as she gives him her back. Again he tugs up her dress, and the smooth curve of her ass presses into his throbbing cock and he can _feel_ it— how she’ll be the best he’s ever had. He can feel how he already wants to have her again and he hasn’t even _fucked_ her yet.

She parts her thighs without him needing to ask— and he hisses out a breath as he pushes through her folds and she _soaks_ his cock and it would take only a slight angling to push inside her but _not yet._

There are whispered words of _implant_ and _clean_ but he’s too focused on her skin. His teeth find her shoulder and how her curve there _gives—_ how it tastes under his tongue that passes over to smooth the mark he’s surely made.

He wishes he could see her face when he finally pushes inside her— her cunt warm and wet and he’s only inside her a _little bit_ but it’s already _so much._

“You could tear me apart,” he whispers— only half conscious that’s he’s even said it.

He doesn’t even know if she’s heard him— but when he pushes the rest of the way inside her— her head turns to meet his mouth and the way she kisses him… he thinks maybe she did.

* * *

“Come to dinner with me.”

She startles a bit as he slides into the chair next to her— having not seen him approach. She immediately frowns, and she waves her hand to gesture at the banquet hall where the rehearsal dinner is being held.

“This _is_ dinner.”

“Then come for drinks after.”

She narrows her eyes. “You’re just trying to get me to your room.”

“Well, yeah. After.”

She scowls. He shouldn’t find it so adorable that she does. “That’s never going to happen.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Never in a _million_ years.”

“It’s cute how you pretend you don’t want to.”

She looks away from him— frowning into her plate as her face scrunches and she tucks her bottom lip under her top one and she’s so fucking _distracting_ without even trying to be.

“I don’t,” she lies, and he knows that it is. A lie.

He leans in— close enough that surely she can feel his breath at her bare shoulder that peeks out of her dress. “Then what was that kiss?”

He sees the way her cheeks color, and the way she drops her fork — it’s clear she hadn’t expected him to bring it up. “ _You_ kissed _me_ ,” she whispers indignantly.

“You asked me to.”

Her mouth falls open as her gaze snaps to him. “I did _not.”_

“You didn’t say it,” he tells her quietly. “But looking at me like you did… trust me. You asked me to.”

“That doesn’t mean I—”

“And you kissed me back.”

“I— that is, I just—” She takes a deep breath. “None of that changes that you were a jerk this morning.”

“I was just being honest.”

“ _Too_ honest.”

“I’m not going to pretend I didn’t want to have dinner with you,” he murmurs. “Or anything of the things that might have come after.”

A visible shiver passes through her, and he can’t help the way he grins because he _knows_ she knows that this is inevitable.

“And who’s to say anything would happen after?” She’s trying to keep her tone even— but Ben can hear the way it lowers a fraction. Can pick up on the way it’s breathier now.

He lets his finger trail along the fabric of her dress along her thigh— slowly and barely touching her, in a way that is almost innocent. It doesn’t stop her eyes from fluttering. “Because you want me. You might not want to— but you do.”

“Are you always so—”

“Yes,” he answers without letting her finish. “Yes, I am.”

“Well, I don’t,” she urges. “Want you. I don’t.”

He grins. “Keep telling yourself that, sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Why not?”

“Because… I don’t like it.”

She says the words— but her lips are pressed together and her breath leaves her a little more shortly and he can _see_ the flush creeping up her next.

“You don’t like it?” He lowers his voice just a little. “Or you don’t like the way it _affects_ you?”

“I— I don’t like it.”

“I think you do, _sweetheart.”_

She shivers again, and Ben feels like a cat with the world’s most enticing mouse. He leans in to say something else— knowing she’s _this_ close to ceasing this ridiculous game— but he doesn’t have the chance.

“Hey, Ben.”

Ben looks up— finding Finn giving him a look that Ben thinks is _supposed_ to be friendly but comes off more like a grimace. “Poe is looking for you.”

Ben scans the room to find Poe laughing with some woman on the other side, raising an eyebrow as he returns his attention to Finn. “Doesn’t seem like he’s looking for me.”

“Well. He is. He said it was important.”

Ben purses his lips because he knows he’s being warned off but his entire _body_ is raging at the thought of not being right here next to her. He sighs in defeat— moving to stand. He casts one last look to Rey— who looks up at him with those same dark eyes that had begged for him to kiss her— giving her a grin.

“We’ll finish this conversation later.”

Finn narrows his eyes— but Ben is still focused on Rey. She doesn’t answer, but her teeth pull at her lower lip and those _eyes_ and it takes all Ben has to turn around and walk away.

It isn’t until much later— after having a pointless conversation with Poe who hadn’t been looking for him at all— that he thinks to himself that he wishes he had her number right now.

* * *

It’s impossible— for her to feel this good.

Ben thinks to himself that he must be imagining it. That he’s somehow built it up to some impossible level in his head.

But he knows it’s just _her._

She pushes back onto his cock with every thrust— roughly, _eagerly,_ even _—_ so tight and wet and _warm_ and he’s being too rough. Too eager, himself. But with every withdraw of his cock his only thought is _immediately_ getting back inside her because why would he want to be _anywhere_ else.

He’s trying to kiss her— but the closeness of it makes his thrusts shallow and he wants to feel every inch of his cock as it sinks into her. Wants to feel her body jolt with the force of it, so he settles for mouthing at her throat, her shoulder, even the soft skin between her shoulder blades. Anywhere his mouth can reach, really.

He should probably tell her. How good she feels. How he can’t even _think_ outside of what they’re doing— but the words don’t come. He can’t seem to manage more than _in_ and _out_ and _in_ and _out_ and she’s _gripping_ him and the _sounds_ she’s making and he’s fucking _lost to it._

They’re in a closet. They should be in a bed. He should be over her— not behind her. Kissing her face and capturing her sounds and her expressions and he doesn’t even know where these thoughts are coming from and they should _terrify_ him but they just… don’t.

“So _tight_ ,” he grates out instead. “I can’t— you’re so— _fuck.”_

He can feel where she’s touching herself, and already her cunt is fluttering around him and she’s _moments_ away. He slams into her harder, _faster—_ chasing after her because he _needs_ it. He feels that agonizingly wonderful pressure building and he’s so _close_ but she’s _closer_ and when she begins to tremble in earnest— when her cunt cinches around him—

Ben nearly comes apart at the seams.

* * *

“Don’t look so put out, sweetheart.”

She frowns just a little deeper. “I told you not to call me that.”

“Because you don’t like it.”

She looks away as she answers, “Yes.”

“But you agreed to dance with me.” He turns her a little in his arms, swaying a little more to the music  as if to prove his point. “So maybe you like it a little.”

“I knew you wouldn’t give up if I didn’t.”

“Not the most sound logic I’ve ever heard,” he chuckles. “But, you’re not wrong.”

“Well you did stare at me for the _entire_ ceremony,” she grumbles.

“And that’s a bad thing?”

“It’s embarrassing.”

“Why? Have you seen you in this dress? It’s fucking incredible.” She blushes— trying to hide her face near his shoulder and he takes advantage of the fact by turning into her ear. “It would look better on the floor.”

She huffs— leaning back to look at him. “Do you _ever_ give up?”

“Not really, no,” he grins.

“I don’t see why you’re so persistent.”

“Besides the possibility of fucking you?” God, her _blush._ He’s getting a little addicted to it. “And you’d like it, sweetheart. In fact if I had more time I might enjoy making you _beg_ for it.” She scowls then, moving to put space between him but he grips her waist a little tighter. “But for once I’m feeling like _I_ might want to beg. I’m dangerously close to it.”

He notices the way her throat bobs— her lips clenching together as she stares back at him. “ _Why?”_

“Because I have a feeling you’ll be worth it.”

“Worth what?”

He’s staring at her mouth now— half breathless because he hardly knows what he’s saying but he knows it’s _right._

“Everything,” he breathes, eyes flicking to hers and how they go _wide_ and _dark_ and it’s not even a line, he realizes. Not even sure what he meant but he _means_ it.

They aren’t even moving now— the music still going but they’re just standing still. Just staring at each other. Her gaze flicks out across the room as if searching for something, and then her fingers wrap around his and she’s tugging him off the dance floor.

“Come with me,” she mutters.

“Where are we going?”

She doesn’t even spare him a backwards glance— just tugs at his hand a little harder. “Just come with me.”

* * *

He could pull out of her now. Surely it’s been hours since they both came— or maybe only minutes. He can feel the warmth of his cum as it leaks out of her, and it’s _insane_ what it does to him. He is holding her up at this point with his grip alone and yet he feels _weak._

He’s afraid pulling out of her means it’s over, and for whatever reason that is unacceptable.

So he just keeps kissing her skin. Keeps tasting whatever he can reach as she struggles to catch her breath.

“People are going to be looking for us,” she says quietly.

“Let them.”

“We can’t stay in here all night.”

“We could.”

“Ben…”

He goes still— because he thinks she might be trying to untangle herself from him. In the worst way. He’s never been on this side of things. Never felt like one night was all he had and wanting to scream because it’s _not enough._

He slides out of her with a groan from the pair of them— feeling her dress fall back into place almost like he was never inside her. He hates it.

She turns to face him, and he pulls her to him before she can protest. He presses his lips to hers and is _relieved_ that she doesn’t. That she leans into him instead. That’s good— right?

“We have to go,” she reminds gently.

“Come dance with me.”

He can feel her smile. “Dancing got us into this.”

“I hope it gets us into this again.”

“You don’t ever give up, do you.”

“Not really, no.”

She sighs— but he thinks she might still be smiling. His chest feels a little tight. “Fine. Hand me my underwear and lets go dance.”

He moves to straighten his pants, too aware of her underwear deep in his pocket. “No, I think I’ll keep those. You can have them later.”

She snorts, pushing past him to listen at the door. “Later?”

“When you come to my room.”

“Such an asshole,” she laughs, pulling open the door and flooding the tiny space with light.

Her hair is a bit mussed and her cheeks are flushed and her eyes too bright but she is _beautiful_ like this. He grins back at her. “I think you might like it, sweetheart.”

She blows out a breath, shaking her head but she’s _smiling_ still. “Come on. If we don’t get back Finn will definitely tell Poe and they’ll both come looking. Even if it _is_ their wedding.”

“Traitor,” Ben mutters.

“Hardly,” Rey laughs.

She tugs at his hand, and he likes the way hers fits there. He squeezes it back as he follows after her.

“Wait.” Ben stops in his tracks— keeping a firm grip on her hand and forcing her to halt.

She looks at him curiously. “What?”

“Your number,” he mutters— reaching into his pocket to wrestle out his phone. “Give it to me.”

“ _Now?”_

He nods resolutely. “Yes.”

She laughs, rattling off her number as he quickly adds it to his contacts. When it’s done— she’s still giving him that same amused expression because she has _no_ idea that everything is different now. “You’re so weird.”

He grins as he allows her to take his hand— allows her to drag him through the empty hallways back towards the reception— thinking he might let her drag him anywhere.

“Yes,” he chuckles. “I am.”


	2. Slippery Slope

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I rarely want to add to my oneshots— but this little prompt was too tempting not to build on! PLUS— it’s her birthday today!
> 
> Happy birthday, @semperfidani! 💕  
> Have some porn in lieu of cake. 😘

“This room is ridiculous.”

He pulls her a little tighter against him— her legs wrapped around his waist and his lips moving over her throat. “It will get the job done.”

“There’s a painting of cheetahs on the wall.”

She gasps softly as he grinds his hips into her— the thick weight of his cock slotting against her core. “You seem distracted, Rey.” His teeth nip lightly at the slim column of her throat— his tongue pressing there after to soothe. “I should do something about that.”

He pulls away— his mouth parted and demanding her attention because _fuck, that mouth—_ it’s been driving her crazy for two days. In more ways than one.

She’s still staring at it— feeling a flush creeping over her chest as she remembers that same mouth and that _tongue_ licking between her thighs greedily.

She lets her own tongue peek out to wet her too-dry lips. “Maybe you should.”

His grin is wicked, just like the rest of him, and when he leans in to press his lips to hers— she isn’t thinking about the ridiculous room at all.

* * *

“Who is that?”

Finn follows her line of sight— scowling when he spots the object of her inquiry across the lobby. “No one you need to know.”

“But he’s talking to Poe.”

Finn heaves out a sigh. “That’s Poe’s best man. Ben Solo.”

“You don’t look like you like him very much,” she points out.

“It’s not that.” He shrugs slightly. “He’s a decent guy. Nice enough, I guess. But I just— I don’t want you getting too friendly with him.”

Rey raises an eyebrow. “And why is that?”

“Listen, he’s—” Finn’s mouth presses into a tight line, his voice lowering. “—a _womanizer.”_

Rey can’t help the tiny bark of a laugh that tears out of her. “Do people really still say that?”

“I just did.” He narrows his eyes. “Just trust me on this, okay? I’ve heard stories from Poe. He isn’t the type you need to be getting friendly with.”

“If he’s the best man— I’ll have to speak to him at some point.”

“I’m not saying that you can’t — I’m just saying be careful. Don’t fall for any of his lines.”

Rey can’t help but continue to be slightly amused at Finn’s father-of-the-prom-queen behavior. “Okay, _Dad—_ I think I can handle myself.”

“I just don’t want you to be another notch on his bedpost.”

“I get it.” She nods— her heart swelling a little because she knows Finn is only looking out for her. Just as he always has. “I’ll be wary of the big scary _womanizer_.”

Finn rolls his eyes. “Cute. I have to see the hotel manager about seating. Can you find your room okay?”

“Yeah, go. I’ll catch up with you later.”

He disappears down a hallway— and Rey only lingers another minute before the receptionist hands her a room key and Rey hoists her bag over her shoulder. She realizes too late she doesn’t have a firm grip as she moves to turn— just as she realizes she hasn’t properly zipped it as it tumbles over her shoulder and its contents scatter across the tile.

“ _Damnit,”_ she mutters, dropping to her knees to try and gather up her things.

She’s busy sweeping everything into a pile when a large hand joins the fray to help her— and she is a bit dumbstruck when she looks up to find none other than the womanizer himself on his knees and helping her shove her things back into a bag. She is distracted for a moment by his warm eyes and his soft-looking mouth and when she realizes she is just _staring_ at him she smiles sheepishly.

His answering grin sort of hurts to look at— and his deep voice is no better.

“Hey. I’m Ben.”

She thinks she might be in trouble.

* * *

They haven’t even made it to a bed.

Too busy tasting and _exploring_ that Ben simply falls back against the plush white couch and holds her firmly in his lap as he pulls her hips against his cock to a rhythm of his own making.

“It’s so much worse now,” he murmurs into her mouth. “That I know what you feel like. I’ll never stop wanting to be inside your cunt.”

It shouldn’t be sweet— these filthy words of his. It really shouldn’t be— but she feels every syllable as if licking along her spine with the way it blooms warmth there to seep into her belly and she thinks maybe he’s wearing too many clothes for what she wants to do to him.

“But you haven’t had my mouth yet. That seems a little unbalanced, considering.”

His fingers in her hair tighten a little. “ _Rey.”_

She presses a kiss to his jaw— working at the pearly buttons of his dress shirt. She ducks her head to taste the bit of pale skin she reveals there— enjoying the way his breath catches and fingers clench.

She kisses a path over his sternum and down the taut muscle of his abdomen— alternating between the soft pressure of her mouth and light flicks of her tongue and how he _moans_ with it.

It makes her bolder than she’s ever been.

She can see the shape of him against his slacks as she sinks to her knees between his thighs— spread wide as they drape over the couch and only making the thick outline of his cock even more apparent.

She leans in to press her lips to the hard shape of him— brushing her mouth along the fabric as her teeth catch lightly and he hisses out a breath.

For the first time since she met him— Rey feels like she might have the upper hand.

* * *

“I don’t know why I let you talk me into this.”

He laughs as he offers his arm to let her grab onto. It helps a little for her being off-balance— but not much. “I didn’t exactly twist your arm. _You_ said you’d never been skiing— I offered to correct that.”

“You never said it would be so hard,” she grumbles.

“Good things always are.”

He’s grinning as he says this— and surely he doesn’t _mean_ for her to blush as she does— or maybe he does. Either way— she feels a heat in her cheeks that hopefully she can accredit to the cold wind that whips around them.

She clears her throat. “Well, I don’t think I’m ever going to get the hang of it.”

“You will,” he laughs. “I’ll make sure of it.”

She’s surprised by how _easy_ it is— spending time with the supposed _womanizer_ like this. She’d been a little taken aback by their easy conversation after he’d helped her gather her strewn things. Flustered by his smile and his voice and _him_ and he doesn’t _seem_ like a womanizer.

He seems pretty damn great, actually.

So when the conversation had turned to skiing and then consequently turned to an _invitation—_ Rey hadn’t really been able to turn it down. Or rather she _might_ have been able to— she just didn’t want to.

What Finn didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

And it’s been _fun—_ these past few hours spent with him.

He’s never been inappropriate— never given her any reason to be wary of him. She thinks maybe Finn might have misjudged him. Maybe he just needs to get to know Ben a little better.

She thinks she might need to as well.

“How about we try a little more advanced slope?”

She grimaces. “Are you kidding me? I can barely handle this one.”

“Like I said—” He adjusts his goggles back over his eyes as he straightens and that _smile—_ it’s almost too much. “— all good things come a little hard, Rey.”

She swallows as she nods dumbly— unable to do much else.

She’s _definitely_ in trouble.

* * *

“Rey. _Rey. Fuck—_ that’s— _fuck.”_

She finds he doesn’t really ever shut up— especially during moments like this. With her mouth stretched around his cock and her fingers teasing below to cradle and caress and the way he _tenses—_

She draws back up his length to suck at the slick head— swirling her tongue around before pushing back down to suction her lips around his shaft as she takes as much of him as she’s able.

She feels her eyes water with the weight of him against her tongue— with the head of him pressing nearly into her _throat—_ but she wants this. She still doesn’t know how much of him she has— how much of her he _wants—_ and if tonight ends up being all they have together, she wants to be the best he’s _ever_ had.

She wants him to remember this forever.

“So fucking beautiful like this,” he grit out, his fingers _again_ sliding into her hair as he brushes it away from her face. As he watches her bob down his cock to leave a slick trail of her saliva. “You’re _incredible,_ Rey.”

She feels a bit of pressure against the crown of her head— his palm resting there with intent and she knows what he wants. Knows just how much he’s holding himself back. She reaches to let her own hand cover his— humming around his cock in assent and he sucks in a sharp breath as she moves a little faster.

Then the pressure at her skull is firmer— Ben thrusting up into her mouth as she sinks down and his hand guiding her along and it’s almost _too much_ but she is _so wet_ and he is _so hard_ and she can _do this_. She _needs_ to.

“Wish I could see,” he grunts. “When you’re full of my cum. I’m going to come in your mouth. I’m so fucking _close.”_

She feels it— the way his cock swells and his thighs tense and his thrusts are _brutal_ now and saliva pools at the corner of her mouth as some _other_ wetness pools between her thighs and it’s _so good_ and just a little more—

When that first gush of warmth spills over her tongue and into her throat— she chances a glance up through her lashes and the _look_ Ben gives her—

The look he gives her says she very well _might_ be the best she’s ever had.

* * *

“Have dinner with me.”

She grins before she turns from the breakfast buffet— not daring to look at him as the memory of his lips on hers still plagues her even now.

“That doesn’t sound like a request,” she laughs softly.

“It isn’t. Not really.”

She does turn then, leaving her plate at the edge of the table and taking a sip of her mimosa.

“It’s the rehearsal dinner tonight,” she reminds him. “Technically I _have_ to have dinner with you.”

“You know what I mean.”

She sighs— Finn’s warning brushing along her mind even if she doesn’t want to. “Ben… I don’t know if it’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’ve heard about how you are with women.”

His jaw tenses a little. “Have you.”

She nods. “I don’t want to be another notch in your bedpost.”

His brow furrows and he looks— almost _angry_. “Who says you would be?”

She raises an eyebrow. “Are you saying you aren’t _trying_ to get into my pants?”

“No,” he says immediately. “I definitely am.”

She scoffs— turning back to the table as she takes another fortifying sip from her glass. “Exactly.”

“But it doesn’t mean that you’ll just be another _notch_ of anything,” he grinds out indignantly. “Besides— don’t pretend like you don’t want it too.”

She swallows thickly— feeling a heat in her chest. “I never said I did.”

She feels the warm weight of him against her back— moving so close that she can practically feel the rise and fall of his chest. “You didn’t have to.” He brushes her hair away from her throat so that he can lean into her ear— his breath tickling her there. “Not when pushed your tongue into my mouth— or when you ground that hot little cunt against my cock.”

He breath catches— hearting the pounding of her heart in her ears as wetness pools between her thighs and she is hot with embarrassment—  or is it something else?

“I didn’t mean—”

“ _Yes you did,”_ he growls. “You did because you want it, too. You want my hands and my mouth and my _cock—_ and I’m going to give it to you. I’m going to push into that tight little body and you’re going to _beg_ me for it. You’re going to—”

She isn’t sure what comes over her.

It’s just that it’s _too much—_ these filthy words that he’s murmuring into her ear and no one has _ever_ spoken to her like this and she can barely _think_ and what comes next just… _happens_ beyond her control.

Suddenly her glass is empty and his hair is wet with sticky juice and his eyes are _so wide_ and they mirror hers because she is _shocked_ by what she’s done.

She tells herself it is embarrassment that led to this— but as she sets her glass down and stomps away before he is able to respond— deep down she knows it was the _truth_ of his words that caused her to react that way.

She isn’t actually angry at what he’d said— she’s just terrified at the knowledge that she thinks he might be _right._

* * *

His eyes are closed now— his head laid back against the couch cushions and his breath unsteady and ragged. Rey feels a thrumming in her skin— something _powerful_ running through her veins for rendering him this way.

Her fingers brush along the underside of his spent cock— still half-hard even for how much he’s just come in her mouth. She presses her lips to the head— licking at the slit there to gather up any remnants of him that she might have missed.

He shudders as his arms thread under hers— yanking her up from the floor to crush her to his chest. His tongue swipes along the seam of her mouth as he groans into a kiss— arms so tight around her it is near painful and yet _so right._

She’s tugging at the skirt of her dress— pulling it up around her thighs to bunch at her waist and rocking into his cock that is pressed between her legs. She can feel the heat of him through her underwear, and she _knows_ what he feels like inside her. By all accounts she shouldn’t be so hungry for it— having been only _hours_ since he’d taken her against a closet wall— but against all reason she _is_.

Has thought of little else in the time since.

She knows he would be _ecstatic_ to know this— so of course she keeps it to herself.

She rocks against him a little harder— feeling his cock already beginning to swell again and she doubles her efforts. His hands move to her waist then— stilling her hips.

“Not here,” he grates— his palms smoothing over her thighs so lightly it makes her shiver. “I want you in a bed when I fuck you again.” His lips press against the corner of her mouth— so soft it’s almost non-existent as he rumbles, “Want to see your face when you come.”

It’s dangerous— these feelings inside her. This desire she already feels for _more._ More than just tonight. It’s dangerous because he hasn’t given her any concrete reason to believe he wants anything outside of tonight. Outside of _this._

She still wants it, she realizes.

She wants everything she can get.

* * *

“I don’t like the way he looks at you.”

Rey laughs softly under her breath. “You’re a married man now. You have bigger things to worry about.”

Finn cuts his eyes across the dance floor to where Ben stands in shadow— watching her as he’s done all day. Through the ceremony— through the toasts— his eyes have hardly left her for a moment.

_Never in a million years._

That’s what she’d told him last night at the rehearsal dinner— but a million years seems so much shorter now— with his eyes on her like this.

“Still,” Finn grumbles. “He looks at you like you’re prey.”

She’d have to agree— but what she can’t tell Finn is of the way it secretly _thrills_ her. The way she feels her resolve crumbling. The way she feels herself _wanting_ to be caught.

“I’m just a challenge to him,” Rey mutters, knowing it’s most likely true. “He’ll lose interest.”

“I hope so. He’s bad news,” Finn urges. “And you don’t need your heart broken. I just want you to be careful.”

“Finn,” Rey sighs. “While I appreciate you _still_ looking out for me— you know I can take care of myself, right? I’m a big girl now.”

Finn smiles sheepishly. “Old habits.”

Rey pushes up on her toes to press a kiss at his cheek. “I know. I love you for it.”

She hears Finn huff then— peering over her shoulder with a scowl. “Son of a—”

“May I cut in?”

She feels him standing just behind her— the hairs on the back of her neck standing up as Finn tenses. “No, I don’t think—”

Rey pats her hand against Finn’s chest. “It’s fine.”

“But—”

Rey shakes her head. “Seriously, Finn. It’s just a dance. It’s fine.”

She knows he won’t take no for an answer, anyway.

Or that’s what she tells herself.

Finn shoots Ben a wary look. “Fine. I’ll be… right over there.”

“We appreciate that, bud,” Ben is grinning as Rey turns to face him.

Then his eyes are on nothing but her— just as they’ve been for days now. She isn’t sure how to feel about the fact that she isn’t even disturbed by him at this point. There is nothing but the warmth in her belly as he steps in close to take her waist.

Still she frowns— knowing she should be more cautious.

But as he pulls her against him and begins to move with the music— she finds that cautious is the last thing she wants to be.

* * *

She hasn’t been so naked in front of another person for a long while. Not physically— and not in all of the other ways she feels it in this moment.

But Ben hovers over her, drinking her in— looking so _hungry_ for her— and she can’t find it in her to be nervous. Not with his eyes on her like they are. Looking at her as if she is something he’s never seen before. Something _mesmerizing._

It’s nearly too much.

“You are—” His mouth remains parted as the words die on his tongue— struggling to come up with just what she _is._ She sees him swallow. “— _perfect.”_

It’s soft— barely there, even, but in the quiet of his hotel room it’s like a _shout._

And he’s still _looking_ at her like that.

It’s _absolutely_ too much.

His head dips to mouth at her breast— tongue flicking out to tease her nipple before he sucks the entire mound inside as deep as he’s able. She feels his cock slot against her center— his hips rolling against her as her mouth falls open in a silent cry and it’s _never_ been like this.

She feels his lips leave a heavy press at her collarbone, murmuring into her skin. “This is the only way you should be fucked.” Teeth graze at her shoulder before he imprints a kiss there as well. “Where I can see all of you.” Warm breath at her jaw as he mouths there lightly. “Where I can watch you come apart.”

Her fingers dig into his shoulders because she can _feel_ him now— nudging at her entrance and raising up to _look_ at her in that way and is he _really_ like this with all women?

Or is it just her?

“ _Ben_.” It’s a whine. She can’t manage anything else in this moment. “I—”

His mouth crashes over hers— and he’s pushing inside— and her eyes screw shut as his tongue sweeps over hers and she is _so full_ and against all reason— she finds herself thinking that this is the only way she wants to be fucked too.

* * *

“Because I have a feeling you’ll be worth it.”

She halts on the dance floor— breath catching and heart pounding. “Worth what?”

He’s staring at her mouth now— looking nearly as lost as she feels. She finds herself holding her breath now as she waits for his answer.

“Everything,” he breathes.

Her mind seems everywhere at once. She’s trying to organize her thoughts— but they’re all over the place as she takes in his dazed expression.

_A womanizer._

_A notch in his bedpost._

_Just be careful._

She takes a deep breath. She realizes then that she’s been careful her entire life. She realizes then that _right now_ — she doesn’t want to be careful.

Right now she wants to be a little reckless.

She flicks her eyes across the floor— spotting the hallway off towards the restrooms and coming to a decision.

She tugs his hand— pulling him through the crowd of people swiftly as he trails after her.

“Come with me,” she urges.

“Where are we going?”

She doesn’t even spare him a backwards glance— just tugs at his hand a little harder. “Just come with me.”

It takes her no time at all to find a little storage closet that’s probably used for maintenance— nearly crying out in success when she finds it unlocked and pushing him inside almost roughly.

“What are you—”

She doesn’t let him finish— instead crushing her mouth to his and pressing him into the wall and he is so _surprised_ at first. Then his arms enclose around her— his tongue licking after her lips and it feels _so good_ like this.

She just hopes she doesn’t regret it.

* * *

His forehead rests against hers— his hand at her hips and the way he drives into her— like he’s afraid it will be the last time.

She wonders if it will be.

She grips him closer with her legs— wrapped around his waist as she finds a rhythm. As she does her best to meet his thrusts. He’s just so _relentless._

Her body is driven deeper into the mattress with every slam of his cock deep inside— Rey having to reach above her to grip at the pillows as she tries to steady herself.

“So good,” he rasps against her skin. “How is it _so_ good?”

“ _Ben._ ”

“It’s better than anything— anything I’ve _ever_ felt.”

Her fingers find his hair and she’s _tugging_ because she _needs_ his mouth now and the way he _kisses_ her makes her toes curl but the way he moves _inside_ her threatens to tear her _apart._

“Rey.” His thrusts are messy now— his breath shallow. “ _Rey.”_

She kisses him harder— hearing nothing but the slap of skin and the wetness between her thighs and feeling only the fullness he gives her and the sweat of their bodies and it is _so good._

His body begins to shake— just as heat curls in her belly and pressure wound tight like a string builds and _builds_ and everything is so _messy_ as she begins to feel that gush of warmth deep inside and she is _so close._

She feels Ben’s hand slide between them even as he empties into her— fingers pressing into her clit frantically and it takes only _seconds_ before she is trembling beneath him and he’s still _going_ inside her and it’s so _warm_ and—

It’s _absolutely_ better than anything _she’s_ ever felt.

* * *

“Finn is still staring.”

Rey grins into his shirt. “Maybe he knows.”

“That you pulled me off to have your way with me in a closet?”

She slaps his shoulder— pulling back to catch his grin as she bites back her own. “I did not.”

“Oh,” Ben chuckles. “That’s _absolutely_ what you did.”

“Are you complaining?”

He shakes his head as he pulls her a little closer— continuing to sway slowly to the music. “Nope. I knew you’d come around.”

“Sure you did,” she snorts.

“I hoped.”

She goes quiet— hating the way he can make her feel something by saying so little. Hating the way she doesn’t know if he means it. Hating the way she doesn’t hate it at all.

“What now?” Her voice is too quiet— betraying how anxious she is. “Now that I’ve had my way with you.”

His large hand trails up her spine slowly— making her tense and shiver. “Now I’m going to finish this dance— and maybe one more— and then I’m dragging you to my room to have _my_ way with _you.”_

She can’t help the way her lips curl into a shy grin— feeling pleasure down to her toes as he breathes his low promises against her ear. “Is that so.”

She pulls back— looking up at him again and finding nothing playful about his gaze. It’s dark and _piercing_ and almost _burns_ in the way it sears into her. The way she feels it deep inside.

“Yes,” he murmurs. “It is.”

She doesn’t even fight him now— and they don’t make it to another dance.

* * *

They lay in the dark after— quiet for what seems like an inordinate amount of time as Ben just holds her close against his side. He can’t stop touching her, his fingers trail up her spine, his lips brush against her hair, endless little touches— and she soaks up every one.

She wonders if he wants her to stay the night.

She wonders if she is supposed to leave.

She wonders all sorts of things.

But he just keeps touching her— and she just keeps letting him— because the alternative terrifies her. Against all reason she doesn’t want to leave this room. She doesn’t _want_ to be another notch in his bedpost.

She doesn’t _want_ to get her heart broken.

She gathers her courage. She opens her mouth.

“Ben, I—”

“Come to dinner with me.”

She is a bit startled by this interjection— nothing like what she expected him to say, and for a moment she’s quiet with surprise. Then she leans back to look at him— and he just stares back like he’s said nothing strange.

“What?”

His hand curls at her hip. “Come to dinner with me.”

Her brow furrows in confusion. “It’s after midnight.”

“Not tonight.”

“Then when?”

He pulls her into him to let his lips brush over her cheek. “Tomorrow night. The next. I don’t care. Any night. _Every_ night— just come to dinner with me.”

Her heart thuds so hard against her ribs she fears they might break from it.

She feels elation unlike anything she’s ever known swell inside her and she’s so _happy_ and he’s so _sure_ and it’s _more—_  more than anything she could have hoped for.

“You never give up,” she whispers. “Do you.”

She can’t see his smile now— but she _feels_ it. “No. I don’t.”

As she tucks herself further into his chest— she can’t help but be grateful for it.

“Yeah,” she answers quietly— chest full and heart pounding. “Yeah, okay.”

She doesn’t have to ask if he wants her to stay the night— because he doesn’t let her go until morning.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> Come say hi on [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/kylotrashforever)!  
> I made a [Twitter](https://mobile.twitter.com/KTF_Reylo), come follow me!


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